Gay Erotic Stories

“The camel does NOT hate you, Jake,” I argued.

“I’m serious. Look at the way it’s looking at me with those beady little eyes.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” He was silent for the first time in an hour and I thought I’d heard the last of Jake’s bellyaching. This whole desert trek was his idea yet he was the one complaining incessantly about the heat, the sand and the camel.

“Now YOU hate me,” he whined.

“Yes, Jake, I hate you. Now will you please shut up and enjoy the view.”

“Fine,” he relented. “Oh hey, look! Sand! Oh--oh, look--there’s some more sand over there.”

He continued with that line of shtick for another fifteen minutes, but I had tuned him out fourteen minutes earlier. Our guide, Omari, was much more tolerant of Jake’s behavior than I was. In fact, from the constant smile he wore, I’d hazard to guess he found Jake’s monologue amusing. Or else, he was in a happy place in his mind, far away from reality.

“I apologize for my friend’s manners,” I told Omari.

“No need for apologies. I’m just sorry he’s not enjoying the trip,” Omari replied.

“He loves it, actually. Complaining is just his way of preventing himself from getting too excited.”

Omari just nodded his head and smiled. I don’t think he got the humor – what a waste of good quality sarcasm. I decided to strike up a conversation with the young Egyptian camel-rider. Omari wasn’t much of a talker, but it beat the hell out of listening to Jake bitch and moan.

Omari told me that he was a Bedouin by birth, but had long given up the nomadic ways of his tribe for more gainful exploits. Occasionally, he’d lead voyages through the desert for rich thrill seekers or self-proclaimed explorers like us. Omari was good at his job. He was patient and kind – as I hear most Bedouins are to foreigners – and, having lived in Cairo for several years, he was well educated in the ways of city dwelling as well as desert living. When we met him in Cairo, he was dressed like a westerner in a polo shirt and baggy blue jeans, making us doubt his authenticity. In the desert, however, he dressed in a jalabiyya – a long, hooded robe that was the standard form of clothing throughout Egypt. Even in that traditional attire he didn’t look very genuine. The smooth, youthful features of his perfectly sun-kissed face reminded me of a young Omar Sharif in “Dr. Zhivago.”

It was getting hot – very hot – even for me. It was so hot Jake actually stopped complaining. We both slumped forward on our camels, sweating and exhausted.

“We will stop now,” Omari stated, noticing our discomfort and slowing his camel to a halt. “We will find shade under those rocks over there and have a bite to eat.”

We dismounted and walked our camels over to the shady area. It was surprisingly very cool and comfortable without the sun beating down on us. I stretched out in the soft, white sand, pulled out my canteen, and quenched my thirst in a few deep guzzles. Jake lay on the ground beside me, half comatose, begging for a spot to drink. I poured the water right down his throat, causing him to choke and sputter. It was the first time I heard Omari laugh. It was a hearty laugh, straight from the gut.

“You two have a very strange relationship. I find it intriguing,” Omari commented.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Most of the time he’s a pain in the ass but, for the most part, I love the big lug.”

Jake smiled lazily and said, “Bite me,” which was his way of saying he loved me too. How sweet.

We had a bite to eat and relaxed for a few minutes in the shade before mounting our camels and continuing our trek through the desert. We came upon a grassy oasis just as the sun began to set. It was there that Omari informed us we’d be pitching a tent and spending the night beneath the stars.

“Outside?” I asked.

“Yes, of course. This journey would not be complete unless we spent a night outdoors,” Omari answered.

“Aren’t there…tarantulas and scorpions out here?” I delved further.

“Yes. Is this a problem?”

“No, no, of course not,” I lied. Jake smirked knowingly and made stupid spider-like gestures with his fingers.

I slept fretfully that night. Anything that brushed against my skin caused me to jump and swat until I felt sure it wasn’t some hairy arachnid having its way with me. Jake slept like a log through my fretful episodes and Omari simple tolerated it. I finally calmed down enough to fall asleep…at least for a couple of hours. Again something brushed against my leg and I sat up in a fit of hysteria.

“Pansy,” Jake mumbled in his sleep and rolled over.

I turned to see if I’d awakened Omari yet again, but he had left the tent. I felt horrible. I was sure he’d left because he couldn’t put up with my overactive arachnophobia anymore. I thought I should find him and apologize and maybe suggest I sleep outside where I could practice my hysterics alone. I poked my head out of the tent expecting to see Omari camped out somewhere nearby, but he was nowhere around.

It was a beautiful night. Out in the boonies, with the nearest town several miles away, there were no lights to obscure the thousands of points of light in the heavens. And the only thing that could be heard was the gentle sound of sand stirring in the cool night air. Actually, without the sun it was downright chilly. I wrapped up in a sheet and stepped out of the tent to take in the beautiful view.

I walked to the edge of the oasis where the trees wouldn’t block my view. The moon was full and cast an eerie glow on the desert floor. I looked out over the sandy plain and, in the distance – maybe a hundred yards or so, near a large rock formation – I spotted a flickering light. It was too bright for a candle or lantern; it looked like someone had started a fire. So that’s where he’d run off to. I padded barefoot through the sand towards the source of light. As I approached, I could see the rocks formed an almost complete circle about 20 feet tall. When I got closer, I heard the sound of humming and splashing water. My curiosity was indeed piqued by now.

I arrived at the rock enclosure and walked to the side where the light shone the brightest and I reckoned where I would find the entrance to the circular hold. Sure enough there was a gap in the rocks. I crept around to the opening and poked my head around the corner to see what was going on. I’m not sure why I was sneaking around but, when I saw what I saw, I was glad I was.

The rock structure surrounded a small pond. The person humming was indeed Omari entertaining himself while he bathed in the clear, desert water. When I found him, he was submerged up to his chin and was floating about freely. A few minutes later, he dunked his head underwater then stood up in the middle of the pool. He had his back turned to me and I watched the water stream down his body. The water just barely covered his surprisingly full ass. I could make out the beginning of his crack just above the water line. Omari slicked back his short, wavy black hair and more water flowed down his spine and between his firm butt cheeks.

I liked what I saw. I had no idea he was so sexy… or maybe it was just the setting. There’s nothing sexier than the shimmer of wet flesh in dim firelight – especially his. It was so smooth and brown; almost like hot, sticky apple butter. How could I not find that sexy? He slowly turned around and I got my first glimpse at his chest and stomach. I knew Omari was a slender man, but seeing him wet and naked in the pool emphasized his just how skinny he was. He wasn’t waifishly thin, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body and he had very little musculature to speak of. He had two big, beautiful, dark brown nipples that just begged to be sucked and the perfect button of a navel that needed a good lick or ten. Further down I caught a glimpse of his bush as it poked out of the water. Of course that made me wonder what kind of snake was nesting in that patch.

I caught myself whispering to him, asking him to step out of the water. Then, as if he heard my plea, Omari walked to the edge of the pond. The closer he got, the more of his splendid tool came to view. It was nothing extraordinary as far as shape or size, but it looked so edible. He emerged from the water and a drop of water clung to the tip of his flaccid dick. I subconsciously stuck out my tongue, just slightly, imagining I could lick the droplet away.

Omari was getting closer and closer – it was time for me to make my exit. I backed away from the alcove and, not paying attention to where I was going, stumbled over a large rock.

“Who’s there?” Omari called out.

What was I going to do now? I had to play it cool like I’d just gotten there and hadn’t seen anything. “Omari, is that you?” I yelled back.

“Yes, I’m over here.”

I walked back to the enclosure and walked into the secluded oasis. Omari was still standing by the side of the pool, sopping wet and bare-ass naked.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t…”

“No worries, my friend,” he interrupted. “My people don’t find shame in our bodies like your people do.”

“It’s not a matter of shame, it’s a matter of privacy,” I said defensively.

“Please, I meant no harm with my comment.”

“I know you didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m just a little edgy, I guess.”

“Scorpions and tarantulas?”

“Yeah.”

Omari spread out a blanket on the sand and laid down on it. “Perhaps you should take a dip in the pool. The water is warm and soothing; it will help you relax.”

“No, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why? You’re not ashamed are you?” He grinned mischievously.

I’d been challenged. I may be gay, but I’m also a man, and real men don’t take challenges lightly. So, I threw off the sheet then started to unbutton my shirt. Omari carefully watched as I shucked my clothes. Now, I was just as naked as he was. I stood there for a moment, watching him watching me.

“Perhaps you should consider getting in the water now,” he suggested.

I nodded and stepped into the shallow spring. It really was soothing to feel the warm water rising up my thighs and around my hips. I turned to see Omari still lying on the blanket intently watching me wade in the water. Being a couple of inches taller than him, the water didn’t cover my naughty bits. In fact, my balls just grazed the water’s surface. There was nothing lewd or lustful in his gaze, no lurid grin or horny crotch grabbing, but it still made me feel uncomfortable to have him inspecting me so thoroughly. I don’t know why I sometimes feel so self-conscious about my body, but I do. I sat down in the water to conceal myself. As the water enveloped me, it washed away all of the day’s tension.

“You feel better already, don’t you?” Omari asked.

“Yes, it feels great.”

I stayed in the water for close to 30 minutes, I guess, before I decided it was time to go. I was feeling relaxed and ready for bed. I stood up and walked to the edge of the pool where Omari was resting and still dutifully watching over me. His eyes repeatedly took in every inch of my body – not just my face, not just my genitals, but all of me.

“Why do you look at me like that, Omari?” I asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “You are a truly magnificent creation of Allah. I am captivated by your beauty.”

His words left me speechless and flushed. “May I touch you?” he asked. I wasn’t sure exactly where he wanted to touch me, but I agreed anyway. Omari stood up and placed his hands on my waist. His hands glided softly over my skin making the tiny hairs stand up. It all seemed so innocent; as innocent as one naked man fondling another man’s naked body can be. I don’t think his intent was to turn me on, but that’s exactly what he was doing. Every inch of skin he examined sent waves of electricity through my body, straight to my steadily hardening dick.

I kissed him. My sudden gesture startled both of us, especially Omari, but he didn’t resist or pull away. No, in fact, he kissed me back. He must have learned how to kiss in the big city; there was nothing simple or pastoral about the way he chased my tongue with his or the way his hand grabbed my stiff prick. With one kiss, what once could have been believed as innocent touching and adoration quickly became unmistakably sexual. He squeezed my cock with his rough, sand-worn hands. I gasped, thus ending our firm lip-lock on each other.

I gazed into his eyes and got lost in the dark pools of animalistic lust. Then I stared down at his dick, which was now as hard as mine was and staring back up at me from his thick, curly patch of black hair. I grabbed it and we slowly jacked each other for a while, occasionally showering the other in soft kisses. Omari’s dick was long and slender with an abundance of skin that slid up and down the length of his seven-inch shaft as I pumped it.

Omari gave me one last kiss on the lips, pulled my hand away from his prick, and then dropped to his knees before me. He carefully considered my raging hard-on, giving it a few quick strokes before aiming at his mouth. His lips parted to accept my fat prick. He sucked vigorously on the first two or three inches of my dick while squeezing and stroking the remainder. His tongue swirled around the head, lapping up the precum as quickly as it dripped out.

I had to have more of my cock in that hot mouth of his. I ran my fingers through his thick, wavy hair, coaxing him to swallow more of me. Like the gracious host he was, Omari indulged my subtle suggestion and soon had five, seven, nine inches in his mouth and down his throat. One more gulp and his rough, stubble-covered chin was scratching against my sac.

“Ooooh! Yeah, Omari that feels great,” I encouraged, stroking his head and thrusting my hips forward.

His throat steadily massaged my cock head while his tongue snaked out and lapped at my nuts. I could have popped right then, but I wanted this to last a while. I pulled my dick out his mouth and let him suck on the tip before I fed the whole thing back down his throat again. His mouth was so accommodating. I pulled it out again and let him work on my balls for a while. They bounced around on his flickering tongue before he sucked both of them into his mouth and massaged them with his lips.

He let my nuts pop out of his mouth and lied down on the blanket. With his legs slightly lifted, he started fingering his hole. At first his finger just circled the tight, rucked up entrance, spreading it open for me to see. While I stood there, transfixed by the sight of his pretty brown hole, Omari was busy sucking on the fingers on his other hand. He lowered the slick fingers to his hole and inserted them, one at a time, until he had three of them lodged in his manhole. His tiny hole stretched tightly around his fingers and Omari let out a deep groan. He fingered himself slowly, all the while looking up at me with lust-filled eyes.

My dick was throbbing, dripping, begging for the opportunity to fuck him. I dropped to my knees and positioned myself between his legs. My cock was poised at the entrance to his ass, which his fingers were currently opening up. I dropped a wad of spit on his hole and let him work it into his chute. I dropped another wad of spit on my cock and coated my thick shaft. I, then, pulled his hand away and rested the tip of my cock at his nicely stretched cumhole. With one smooth motion, my cock popped through the tight ring guarding his treasure then tunneled deep into his tight, velvety bowels. We groaned in unison as my dick settled into his ass – it was a perfect fit.

Omari grabbed the back of his knees and lifted them to his chest to give me unrestricted access to his goods. I adjusted my position and let the fucking commence. Omari’s silky ass hugged my dick tightly with every thrust. He grunted and growled every time I rammed deep inside him. My balls slapped against his smooth, round ass to emphasize the force with which I was reaming him and, from the looks of his hard, oozing cock, he was loving every, powerful stroke.

As much as I enjoyed watching his face twist up while I pounded his hole, I really wanted him on his stomach so I could give him a more proper and thorough plowing. I pulled my dick out of his snug pit and turned him over. Omari sprawled out on the blanket, lifted his hips and once again offered full admission to his magnificent rectum. I spread his cheeks apart to look at his gaping hole. There was no way I was about to decline that offer. I dropped another wad of spit on his sizzling crack and hastily plunged back into his depths. From this position I could really open him up.

“Unh… unh… so big… so good,” he rambled.

He arched his back to try and get more of my fat prong in him, but he already had all ten inches crammed down his splendid hole. I slowed it down so he could feel every inch of my dick burrowing into him and so I could savor his unyielding tightness. After about twenty minutes of me long-dicking him, Omari’s body started to convulse. His ass clamped onto my cock as he came. I wiggled around inside of him to intensify his orgasm and in doing so triggered my own release.

I shoved my dick in as far as it would go and dumped my thick, creamy load deep into the recesses of his body. His quivering cumhole milked every drop out of my aching cock. I collapsed on top of him as the last shivers of orgasm ripped through our sweaty bodies. I remained firmly implanted in his sticky, cum-filled ass, not willing to surrender its inviting warmth. I was still hard and ready for another round. I gently humped him a few times to signal my readiness.

“Mm, you are truly wonderful,” he moaned. “And as much as I’d like to feel you inside of me all night, I think you should return to the tent now.”

“B-but…”

“We have a long day ahead of us and you need your rest.”

I pulled out of him and sat back. He turned over and looked at me. Obviously noticing the look of disappointment on my face, he said, “There will be other opportunities for us to be together.”

I smiled and nodded. I gathered my clothes and left Omari in the secluded alcove. I stumbled through the cold desert sand, dressing along the way, until I made my way back to our little camp in the oasis. I crept into the tent and collapsed on the ground next to Jake. He woke up and looked over at me through sleepy eyes.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked.

“I couldn’t sleep so I took a little walk to relax.”

Jake stared at me for a minute then said, “You fucked the Bedouin dude, didn’t you?”

“No! What are you talking about?” I don’t know why I was hiding it. I just didn’t feel like sharing the experience with Jake.

“Yes you did! I can see it in your eyes.”

“Stop being such an ass. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

He sniffed the air. “Then why do you smell like ass and cum?”

I rolled over, refusing to continue the conversation any further.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said and rolled over to go back to sleep. “You selfish bastard, you could have at least let me tag along for the ride.”

I didn’t respond. All I wanted to was sleep. And sleep I did. Neither spider nor scorpion would wake me from my post-coital coma. I woke up the morning, refreshed and ready to take on the next leg of our desert trek. It was one more day out and two days back to the hotel – and three more nights of hot, desert sex with Omari.